I’ve crossed an electronicals line this week. Twice. Thrice if you include my insistence on using the word electronicals (but lets not).
The first was with my phone. I was trying to take a photo of the kids but no matter how I held it I couldn’t get my finger out of the shot.
After much cursing I discovered it wasn’t my finger in the way but my own face.
Now this blew my mind, and not in a good way. This defied the laws of physics. I spent five confused minutes moving the phone around, trying to see past myself?
Even when crouched on the floor, the phone held a foot above my head, and the wall that I knew was behind me clearly in shot did it register what may have happened. But then why would it, I didn’t know phones could take photos in both directions did I? That’s not what they do, that’s …. witchcraft!
I’ll not lie, my confusion was bordering on tears when Sonny finally wandered over, pressed a button, and reversed the view for me.
How? I still have no idea. I have however discovered what a selfie is. I have hundreds of them on my phone that were intended to be of the kids. I also know what my bewildered face looks like. It’s not pretty, not pretty at all.
The second crossing of the line is an ongoing mystery and concerns the DVD player; the remote for which has long disappeared into the Narnia of lost belongings, presumably down the back of the sofa gathering dust with my iPod and sanity.
It’s an old DVD player, it has only three buttons on the player itself. Play, stop, and eject. Anything other than the film is beyond reach. At least it is to me. Yesterday I walked in to find Sonny watching the DVD extras. It’s just not possible without the remote.
How had he done it? No idea. Would he tell me? Of course not!
I’ve searched the DVD player for hidden buttons, pressed the three I can find in all possible combinations, I’ve even had a screwdriver to the back; because that’s exactly what a four-year old would have done isn’t it?
I’m not proud of what happened next, but in my defence I was still smarting over the phone fiasco.
When he wouldn’t tell me how he’d navigated the menu I frisked him. I frisked my own four-year old son looking for the contraband controller I’d wrongly assumed was hidden somewhere upon his person.
It was like something off Prisoner Cell Block Tumble.
Now the reason I’m recounting these two events is that I found myself on the precipice of technological ignorance.
Three strikes of the kids knowing more than me about electronicals (sorry) and I’m out of the technology loop forever. It’s a point of no return, I know that.
I’ll no longer guess which socket a wire goes into.
Any mention of new technology will be met by memories of my first tape-to-tape recorder.
No longer will I be prepared to use even a toaster without first reading the instructions from cover to cover, in all available languages.
I couldn’t let this happen. I’m the still the right side of 40 damn it (albeit by a matter of months), I had to fight back!
And this is where Crucial came in. They emailed me with a challenge to see how easily I could upgrade the memory on my PC.
A challenge to prove I still had a grip on technology.
A challenge Sonny and Luca didn’t realise they were part of but by god I made them watch my every step! I know, it’s pathetic.
The memory upgrade arrived in the post and I opened up my computer (after the kids were home from school obviously). I explained to them how the computer worked (OK, so I made it up but what do they know), and inserted the new memory.
“… and that’s how you install new memory boys!”
I said to an audience of none. They’d long got bored with my pitiful bravado and were watching a DVD in the other room. Probably the DVD extra’s … I’ve really got to let that drop …
So were this a game of Technological Top Trumps, what I lost to their DVD wizardry I’ve won back with a memory upgrade. I think they cancel each other out, which means I’m still in the game. A game they don’t know we’re playing and which I know I’ll eventually lose, but just not yet.